She sighed as she spoke, and Esmeralda quickly divined that the woman was an unwilling participant in her capture and detention. Out of pity for her she refrained from asking any more questions, but finished her tea and sat silent, with her head upon her hand.
“You’d best lie down,” said the woman; and she pointed to a rough bed in the corner.
“Thank you,” said Esmeralda, gently, as she got up and went to the bed; but she made no pretense of sleeping, and lay on her elbow, watching the woman thoughtfully.
“Will you not let me help you wash up?” she said, presently. “I’m not used to sitting by and seeing others at work that I can help in.”
The woman shook her head.
“You look like a great lady,” she said, reluctantly, and as if she could not help speaking, which was not strange, for few men and women in the great world of London had been able to resist the subtle fascination of Esmeralda’s manner.
“I am Esmeralda of Three Star Camp,” she said; “that is all.”
The woman stopped in the process of washing up, and looked at her with an interest marked by the same reluctance.
“I heard somewhere that you was a great lady,” she said—“that you was a lady by birth and in your own right.”
“Well, I suppose I am,” said Esmeralda, with a little laugh, for it struck her as comical that she should be the Duchess of Belfayre. “But it doesn’t much matter, does it, seeing that I’m a prisoner here?” Then suddenly a thought flashed upon her. “Do you think they want money?” she asked. “Because, if so—”